


Grief

by brahe



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, No pun intended, Oropher is also mentioned, in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil breaks the news and Elrond is there for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys so I still can't write summaries or anything that's actually like longer than 1000 words, but whatevs. I have a lot of feelings about hot elf dads but issues in trying to write them. Anywho, enjoy!

Legolas found his father crying into the shoulder of Lord Elrond. The two sat beside each other on the seat before the great opening in Elrond's study. Legolas had been in search of his father for several minutes, and he padded into the study barefoot and nearly silent. His father did not notice his approach, but Elrond looked up immediately to the small prince. Legolas paused, but Elrond made no move to dismiss him, so he entered the room slowly.  
"Ada?" he asked quietly, and Thranduil sat up and searched for his son instantly.  
"Legolas," he breathed, tears still on his face. Legolas rushed to his father as quickly as he could and struggled to climb up into the sofa beside him. He felt his father's hands on his sides, lifting him enough so that he could clamor up and curl into Thranduil's side.  
"What's wrong, ada?" he inquired and Thranduil squeezed him tightly.  
"Grandfather will not be returning home," he told Legolas, looking to Elrond for help. It was still too new, too raw for him to answer any of his son's questions without dissolving into tears again.  
"Oh," Legolas said in response, and the fact that his barely three feet tall son understood what he meant almost made Thranduil want to cry again. Such a young child shouldn't know the implications of such a statement. He should have questions.  
Thranduil, instead of talking more, just held Legolas to him and in turn let Elrond hold him. He was not ready to be king yet, and everything that it required; he was still trying to learn how to be both a father and a mother to his son. When he felt the telltale prick of more tears, he squeezed his eyes shut. Elrond nuzzled his neck and kissed behind his ear.  
"All will be well," he promised in a whisper, and Thranduil turned his face back to Elrond's chest, twisting gentle fingers through Legolas's already long golden hair as a way to calm both the elfling and himself.  
"How do you know?" he asked the elf lord softly.  
"Experience," Elrond answered. He knew well the company of sorrow and grief.  
"I don't know what to do," Thranduil confessed, fighting back the tears again. "I'm not ready for this."  
"Of course you aren't. You never will be. That's the problem with compassion."  
"Such comforting words," Thranduil replied, a hint of sarcasm in his weary voice.  
"It is the truth," Elrond shrugged. Thranduil shifted in his arms to look at him.  
"Will you be with me?" he asked, and Elrond suddenly remembered how young he was, how young they both were. Too young for such grievances.  
"Always," Elrond nodded, bending just so to press a loving kiss to Thranduil's lips.


End file.
